Sought and Found
by fallingsloth
Summary: Daryl convinced himself to lose hope, but Beth sure as hell didn't.


Daryl woke up sweating bullets, his heart pumping like a goddamn jackhammer. It was all he could hear for awhile, his oen stupid fucking heart, thudding away with a vengeance. He wanted to hit something, someone. Wanted to hurt.

"Beth," slipped out on a breath, barely a sound. It was the first time he'd said her name in weeks and it wasn't really even said. Made him feel stupid as hell. Daryl failed her worst of all. Failed Maggie, failed Glen, Rick, Michonne, Lil Asskicker, Herschel... But especially Beth. She was supposed to be safe with him. She'd been all he had and he was supposed to keep her close. He was supposed to kill anything and anybody that laid a fucking finger on her and he'd _failed._ Again.

Daryl sat up quick and looked around, counting each huddled form to be certain that they were where he'd left them. He'd picked up these stupid fucking habits after the Governor, after loosing Beth. He counted Maggie and Glenn huddled together under a blanket, close to him. Michonne standing watch, back against a tree. Carol curled around Judith, Rick next to Carl, Tyreese creeping back after taking a piss and everyone else scattered about and accounted for, including the stupid fucking mullet man with grand ideas about how this shit started... But no Beth. He pulled his knees up, arm resting on them, head hanging down. His eyes were burning something fierce, but he hadn't cried since the moonshiner's cabin with Beth and he wasn't gonna start now.

If he could just sleep, just for a few hours, he was sure he'd feel less. Or nothing at all. He wasn't sure what he wanted, just something different than too much. Sleeping on the ground surrounded by people who were gonna eat you a few weeks before sure wasn't helping none. That, and he wasn't as spry as he used ta be. The end of days was hard fucking work, tended to make him sore and stiff. Beth'd mentioned yoga once when she'd noticed how stiff he was and Daryl had looked at her like she was bat shit crazy. Now, he sorta wish he'd actually listened when she'd described stretches that would help. Of course, that would have required privacy because he wasn't doing no weird indian shit in front of no body, not even Beth. Well, maybe in front of Beth. Just cause he wouldn't make the mistake of taking his eyes off her again if they... They weren't gonna find her. He knew it the minute he lost that fucking hearse.

"We're gonna find her, ya know."

Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Maggie's voice. His head snapped up to see her staring at him from her spot in Glenn's arms.

"We are gonna find her," Maggie repeated with a little more force to her whisper. Daryl just looked away, settling back down to try to sleep. He felt like he hadn't slept in weeks. Like he'd never sleep again. Just one hour, he'd try for an hour and if he couldn't sleep he'd try to hunt down something. Still had to eat, even if his stomach cramped at the thought of food. Everyone else needed to eat.

He wasn't gonna fail again. He wasn't.

* * *

><p>Beth was annoyed. She'd gotten so good at being quiet the way Daryl showed her, got her this far, and these idiots were going to ruin it. People didn't escape from this hell hole everyday, you'd think these three would know how to be quiet long enough to risk it.<p>

"I swear, y'all don't shut up, I'll kill ya myself," she hissed at them. Weeks ago, Beth couldn't have imagined even _thinking_ something like that, much less saying it, but this place made her pissy. Daryl would have called it something else entirely, woulda told her she was being downright bitchy. Well, he would've thought it, at least. Probably wouldn't have said it to her face. Probably.

"We're almost out of here, guys. Just need a little quiet," she whispered to the three boys her age following behind her like puppy dogs. They weren't like her, weren't like Daryl either. There was something hard behind their eyes, something she'd only seen in Merle and sometimes in Rick. Never Daryl, though. She'd always wondered at that, but there'd be time for wondering later. Maybe. They all wanted out something fierce.

This place was wrong. People didn't talk here, didn't sing or hum. There was just work, which was strange considering how seemingly secure it was. All work and scavenging, no small joys in sight. Really, though, it wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the beatings. Beth was black and blue for disobeying. Small rebellions, small joys. Sometimes she'd sleep in for five more minutes, or hum. But what really was the last straw was the rumors of... Even thinking about it sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine. A 'breeding' program, to save the human race... Or provide more workers, it depended on the rumor. What was most unsettling was that they apparently did things to the babies to make them quite. Beth refused to think of it, refused to wonder why the few babies she had seen were so very quiet. One thing was certain, though, Beth would not be sticking around to go through anything these people had planned. She wasn't gonna have a child. Not now, not ever. Probably.

She tightened her grip on her makeshift weapon, a broken shovel handle, and moved forward quickly, whacking a guard on the head much harder than she thought she could, and he went down with barely a sound. Hopefully, she hadn't killed him, she tried to convince herself it was just a nasty bump, but the smear of red on the wood in her hand didn't give her hope. Beth swallowed back bile and her hands were shaking and she caught herself thinking _Daryl would tell you to move your ass, so move it_. So, she moved on, internally quaking from what she might have done. Beth was going to get out, she was going to find her family. Even if the only family she had left was Daryl Dixon, she was gonna find him. She'd find him.

The three boys followed close behind, their own weapons held tight in their hands, eyes shifting to take in as much as they could as they moved behind the strangest and most determined girl they'd met since the end of the world.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm not sure if I'll continue this, it's my first real attempt at fanfiction that I felt comfortable publishing, but I'm not sure of my characterization. Helpful criticism is welcome, of course. This may just end up being a one or two shot story.  
>I listened to Kings of Leon when I wrote this, simply because they, to me, are what Daryl Dixon would be if he WAS music.<p> 


End file.
